Chapter 99 Father and Son Kill Each Other: It's Time for a Change of the Day.
The thought of possibly meeting Emperor Taizong seemed to strike Du Fu with joy, making him feel dizzy.
Among the literati of the Tang Dynasty during the Tianbao era, it is probably impossible to find another person as fortunate as him.
It's like a stroke of good luck.
A dazed Du Fu was pulled by Qin Shubao's sleeve and staggered around the official's office. The great Tang poet looked like a toddler just learning to walk, his steps unsteady.
Qin Dynasty Hei Fu?
greet.
Lord Wu'an, Bai Qi.
greet.
Zhuge Liang?
Hit…? No? Who? Du Fu’s eyes widened suddenly, his jaw almost dropping to the ground. Wasn’t this scholar with a feather fan and silk turban the very one he had written about in “The Prime Minister of Shu”—the one who “thrice visited the emperor to discuss the affairs of the realm, and served two dynasties with the heart of an old minister”?
Wei Zhongxian, who was watching the drama unfold, chimed in with a shrill voice, "Look, Prime Minister Zhuge is still the most famous. All of us have to step aside."
That's not right.
These words immediately drew several disapproving glances. Zhuge Liang lightly waved his feather fan and smiled calmly: "I and everyone else are simply fulfilling our duties as subjects."
As soon as Zhuge Liang finished speaking, everyone in the office turned their gaze to Wei Zhongxian, since he was the only treacherous official in the entire Songyang County.
Wei Zhongxian was puzzled by the way everyone looked at him.
Why are you looking at him?
Wei Zhongxian felt extremely uncomfortable under his gaze, his thin eyebrows almost standing on end: "What do you mean? What do you mean? Who's neglecting their duty?" He began to count on his fingers: "I've devoted myself to the Ming Dynasty with all my heart and soul. During the day I'm on duty in Songyang County, and at night I still have to turn the tide for the Ming Dynasty. Is this a life for a human being? Is this a life for a eunuch?"
When he got to the point of being heartbroken, Wei Zhongxian actually took out a handkerchief embroidered with gold thread and wiped his eyes. He had indeed been feeling very frustrated these days, and he didn't even have time to do his job of framing loyal officials. His belly was full of wicked ideas that were about to ferment into vinegar.
Zhuge Liang's words were impeccable, drawing everyone else to his side. Although Wei Zhongxian was full of complaints, he knew he couldn't fight against so many opponents, so he could only sullenly walk away and sulk.
After this brief interlude, Du Fu finally calmed down and greeted each of the historical figures present. With each name announced, his heart raced: Huo Qubing, Zheng He, Zhou Yu... these names, shining brightly in the annals of history, now seemed to stand vividly before him. Du Fu couldn't help but feel deeply moved; how fortunate he was to be among the renowned ministers and generals of the past and present gathered here.
"I'm so...lucky," he murmured to himself, his voice so soft that only he could hear it.
Jiang Ge was already standing at the threshold, her back to the sunlight, looking at Du Fu. Sunlight streamed in from behind her, gilding her silhouette with a golden edge.
Even the tiny specks of light in the air are clearly visible.
Upon seeing Jiang Ge, Qin Shubao finally realized what was happening and pulled Du Fu to her side to report: "This is Magistrate Jiang. Follow Magistrate Jiang closely, and you might just get to see His Majesty someday."
He even made faces while speaking.
The current situation in Songyang County is not something that can be easily reversed.
"real?"
"It's absolutely true!" To convince Du Fu, Qin Shubao patted his chest, indicating that he would never lie.
Du Fu stood in front of Jiang Ge, his movements somewhat restrained. Before he could speak, he heard, "Let's get to work."
Du Fu's work records include major and minor events in Songyang County.
It's not difficult; it still falls under the category of writers.
This bank.
The article was so well-written that everyone who read it said it was a waste of talent; the author should have been writing for the emperor.
The emperor was lying in bed at this moment, and the eldest prince was standing in front of the emperor's bed.
The bright yellow curtains hanging inside the hall were gently stirred by the morning breeze, letting in a few rays of dazzling sunlight.
The emperor's face was ashen, appearing even more pale in the sunlight. The eldest prince stood before the bed, his back straight, casting a shadow that obscured half of the emperor's face.
“Father,” he said, his voice calm to the point of being cold.
The emperor's eyelids trembled slightly, his cloudy gaze slowly shifting towards him, his chapped lips moved, but only a faint whisper escaped.
The eldest prince's gaze fell on the empty medicine bowl by the bedside—a few drops of undried medicine remained at the bottom of the bowl, gleaming eerily dark in the sunlight. He reached out and gently tapped the rim of the bowl with his fingertips, producing a crisp sound.
"Do you remember when I was ten years old?" He suddenly smiled, but his eyes were icy cold. "After I finished reciting my lessons, you just nodded and turned to hug your newborn brother... You didn't even offer a word of praise."
The low murmur of palace servants drifted in from outside the window, mingled with the chirping of birds, making the silence in the hall all the more palpable. The emperor's fingers clenched the brocade quilt with spasms, and a hoarse sound came from his throat.
“Over the years, the way you look at him has never been the same as how you look at me.” The eldest prince leaned down, the fragrance of his body mixed with the scent of medicine wafting over you. “You even let him play in the Imperial Study, but you won’t even give my policy essays a second glance.”
Why? Father.
The emperor's eyes suddenly bulged out, and his withered hand shot up, only to grasp a wisp of fluttering curtain.
“But it doesn’t matter.” The eldest prince straightened up, and the sunlight streamed in from behind him, casting a long shadow that fell directly on the emperor’s ashen face. “I don’t need you anymore, Father.”
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside the hall, followed by a eunuch's cautious report: "Your Highness, the Imperial Concubine has come to pay her respects with the young prince, saying she wishes to attend to your illness..."
The eldest prince turned to look at the carved window lattice. Through the thin gauze, he could see the imperial concubine in a scarlet palace dress and his younger brother kneeling in the courtyard.
He raised his hand to straighten his cuffs, and as he turned around, a slight smile appeared on his lips: "Let them in—perfect, to pay my last respects to Father."
Suddenly, the sunlight shone brightly, illuminating the entire room. The emperor's gaping mouth froze in his last breath, his wide eyes reflecting the retreating figure of his eldest son and the blindingly bright blue sky outside the window.
It's time to change things up.
—
Django looked up at the sky; the sun was almost at its zenith, it was time for lunch.
After tidying up my things, I went back to the canteen.
This meal was generated by the system; today's meal consisted of braised pork and stir-fried bok choy, served with rice—it smelled delicious. But this meal was too healthy; Huo Qubing's favorite was still spicy hot pot.
Spicy hot pot and rice are the perfect match!!!
An enticing aroma wafted from the canteen of the Songyang County government office. Du Fu sat at the wooden table, his stomach already growling with hunger. Having encountered such a strange and exciting event, his heart was filled with emotion, and only now did he realize how hungry he was.
"Lord Du, I've kept you waiting!" Jiang Ge walked over carrying a black lacquered tray, the bowls and plates clinking together with a crisp sound.
Du Fu looked up and saw a bowl of glistening white rice, a plate of glistening red braised pork, and a plate of vibrant green stir-fried bok choy on a tray. The steaming food and fragrant aroma made his throat tighten and he swallow hard.
The braised pork was cut into neat squares, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat. Its skin glistened with an amber sheen, and the thick sauce trembled slightly, as if beckoning one's appetite. Du Fu picked up a piece; the meat was heavy, and when he pressed it with his chopsticks, a few glistening drops of oil seeped out, dripping onto the rice and instantly soaking it.
He carefully took a bite. The skin was soft and chewy, the fat melted in his mouth, and the lean meat was tender and juicy. The salty and sweet flavors exploded on his tongue, and the meat was rich in aroma, with a hint of wine and cinnamon.
"This meat..." Du Fu's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but pick up another piece, "It's not fishy at all!"
Speaking of this, Django said knowledgeably, "If the pig is castrated before cooking, it won't smell fishy."
Their county government even has a pig castration expert.
Du Fu nodded repeatedly, his chopsticks never stopping, and in the blink of an eye he had eaten three or four pieces, completely unaware that there was some sauce on his lips.
Braised pork belly is delicious, but it can get greasy if you eat too much of it. Du Fu's gaze shifted and landed on the plate of stir-fried bok choy.
The bok choy was vibrant green and tender, with stems as white as jade and leaves as green as emerald, each adorned with a few glistening drops of oil. Garlic mincing was scattered among the leaves, releasing a refreshing aroma. He picked up a stalk, took a gentle bite, and found the bok choy crisp, juicy, and bursting with garlic flavor that wasn't overpowering, perfectly balancing the richness of the braised pork.
"This bok choy..." Du Fu chewed it carefully, then exclaimed in surprise, "It's even sweeter than the freshly picked bok choy in spring!"
Wei Zhongxian, who had appeared out of nowhere, came closer with his bowl and said with a smile, "Lord Du, you don't know this, but these dishes are divine delicacies. How can ordinary dishes compare to them?"
No wonder.
Du Fu suddenly realized, and picked up a few more bites. The refreshing bok choy complemented the braised pork perfectly, making him very hungry.
The most ordinary, yet the most indispensable, is that bowl of white rice. Each grain is plump and steamed to perfection, neither too soft nor too hard, with a pearly sheen.
Du Fu couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten such good rice.
He scooped a spoonful of braised pork sauce and poured it over the rice. The sauce slowly seeped into the rice grains, gradually turning the originally snow-white rice amber. He took a big bite, the aroma of the rice mixed with the rich flavor of the meat sauce melting in his mouth, giving him an indescribable sense of satisfaction.
"rice……"
"It also has a slightly sweet taste, which is a perfect match for braised pork."
Huo Qubing, who was busy swallowing the braised pork, remarked, "I think rice tastes best with spicy hot pot."
Huo Qubing had a deep fondness for mala tang (a type of spicy hot pot).
There's no way around it, the menu is always rotating.
Mala Tang is not on today's menu.
Du Fu felt a surge of warmth upon hearing this, and ate a few more mouthfuls of rice, finding that this simple rice was even more delicious than the finest delicacies.
Before he knew it, the braised pork was almost gone, only a few stalks of bok choy remained, and the rice was completely gone. Du Fu, still feeling unsatisfied, stared at the empty bowl with a touch of melancholy.
"Would Lord Du like another bowl?" Jiang Ge asked with a smile.
Du Fu patted his stomach, intending to decline, but the aroma still lingered in his nose, and he finally couldn't resist, nodding: "Then... have another half bowl of rice."
When the second bowl of rice was served, he picked up the last piece of braised pork and savored it carefully, as if he wanted to etch the taste into his memory.
After eating and drinking his fill, Du Fu let out a long sigh of relief, feeling warm all over and all the fatigue of the past few days swept away. Looking at the empty bowls and plates, he suddenly sighed, "In chaotic times, being able to eat a full meal is already a great blessing."
Jiang Ge, who had appeared by the door at some point, smiled slightly upon hearing this: "I'm glad Lord Du likes it."
Du Fu rose and bowed deeply, saying, "Thank you for your hospitality, Magistrate Jiang. I will never forget the meal I have enjoyed today."
Outside the window, the afterglow of the sun spilled into the courtyard, making the oil on the bowls and plates gleam. This meal was so satisfying that it was more precious than any delicacy.
How wonderful it would be if ordinary people could eat a bowl of braised pork with rice every day?
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